Pilgrimage in Practice: Narration, Reclamation and Healing

By Ian S. McIntosh, E. Moore Quinn, Vivienne Keely and 9 more

Pilgrimage in Practice: Narration, Reclamation and Healing provides an interdisciplinary approach to the topic. It reveals many aspects of the practice of pilgrimage, from its nationalistic facets to its effect on economic development; from the impact of the internet to questions of globalization; from pilgrimage as protest to pilgrimage as creative expression in such media as film, art and literature.

- Contests the very definitions of pilgrimage and challenges its paradigms.
- Provides multiple perspectives on the subject to give a rounded and comprehensive review.
- Covers past and present definitions of the sacred journey, the telling of stories, and historical injustices and their remedies through pilgrimage.

Perhaps best understood as a form of heritage tourism or tourism with a conscience, pilgrimage (as with touristic travel) contains a measure of transformation that is often deep and enduring, making it a fascinating area of study. Reviewing social justice in the context of pilgrimage and featuring a diverse collection of interdisciplinary voices from across the globe, this book is a rich collection of papers for researchers of pilgrimage and religious and heritage tourism.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CAB International
• Release date: Apr 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9781786395023

Book preview

1 Introduction: Pilgrimage in Practice – Narration, Reclamation and Healing

Ian S. McIntosh,

¹

* E. Moore Quinn² and Vivienne Keely

³

¹Indiana University–Purdue University Indianapolis (IUPUI), Indiana, USA; ²College of Charleston, Charleston, South Carolina, USA; ³Diocese of Parramatta, Sydney, Australia

*Address for correspondence: [e-mail]

Pilgrimages are some of the most ancient practices of humankind and are associated with a great variety of religious, spiritual and secular traditions. Sacred sites to which pilgrims travel, defined as revered geographical locations anchoring spiritual beliefs, practices and observances, can be found all over the world. Today, the number of visits to sacred sites is increasing: more than 330 million people embark on traditional pilgrimages in Saudi Arabia, Iraq, India, Japan and Spain. By some estimates, one-third of all international travellers are on some form of pilgrimage or spiritual vacation.

In the face of such a meteoric rise over the last few decades, and with an ever-increasing momentum across the globe, the taken-for-granted parameters around which the subject of pilgrimage was ensconced have come under scrutiny. Can anyone say what pilgrimage, in its essence, is? Classic definitions encompass missions to sites of healing like Lourdes, overland journeys to Mecca and solemn walks around the island of Shikoku in Japan. However, should we not also include in the list those small-scale ‘walkabouts’ undertaken by Australian Aborigines in search of spiritual renewal and rebirth? What about Norwegians in diaspora who seek similar goals of self-discovery and transformation by virtual means through online journeys along St Olav’s Way? Are they not also pilgrims?

Victor Prince (2017) in The Camino Way says that for every step a pilgrim takes the world is a better place. Can ‘pilgrims’ be categorized, pigeonholed or deemed distinct from others who journey ‘for a purpose’? Can a distinction be drawn between the sacred and the secular (see Salazar, 2014)? Colin Turnbull approached this issue of definitions years ago; in ‘The tourist as pilgrim: a pilgrimage in India’, a penetrating essay about sacred travel, he suggested that pilgrimage might be understood as a form of heritage tourism – ‘tourism with a conscience’, so to speak:

For [both the tourist and the pilgrim], there is a measure of transformation. Intended and unintended. Something happens to both voyagers, largely to the extent that they are willing to let it happen, something that does more than rejuvenate, something deep and enduring. For each, one step further has been taken on the road to self-discovery, and the self that is much enlarged.

(Turnbull, 1981, p. 22)

Turnbull seems to be plumbing the depths of intentionality with these words. Yet today the question of intention is as circumspect as that of definition (Duranti, 2015). Likewise, human practices when travelling are open to question. What is ‘pilgrim behaviour’? Can it be distinguished and quantified in meaningful ways?

In 2013, cognizant of the paradigm shifts in thinking about pilgrimage as put forth by such scholars as John Eade, Michael B. Sallnow and a host of others,¹ and to explore some of the knotty questions confronting scholars of pilgrimage, Ian McIntosh and E. Moore Quinn issued a call for a global conference on the subject. Although the conference was entitled ‘Sacred Journeys: Pilgrimage and Beyond’, the co-directors, who are both anthropologists, cast the net widely, inviting those from a vast array of disciplines who, it was hoped, would deal with the experiential, practical, historical, psychological and phenomenological aspects of pilgrimage. Fortunately, they were not to be disappointed, for the ‘Sacred Journeys’ conference, which was held at Mansfield College, Oxford, in July 2014, attracted a wide range of participants: nuns, priests, academics, activists, poets, novelists, film-makers and, of course, pilgrims. Such is the nature of the interdisciplinary approach: it has the potential to bring many voices to the table.

Divided into a number of contextual blocks and reflective of the rich diversity that scholars of pilgrimage studies encounter and ponder (especially in terms of interrogating definitions), the chapters that follow explore many aspects of the practice of pilgrimage including: (i) from its nationalistic aspects to its effect on economic development; (ii) from the impact of the internet to questions of globalization; and (iii) from pilgrimage as protest to pilgrimage as creative expression in such media as film, art and literature. Part I, Grounding Pilgrimage, challenges past and present definitions of the sacred journey. Leading the volume is Tessa Garton, whose chapter brings to life the experiences of 12th-century pilgrims who walked the aforementioned Camino to Santiago. Emphasizing the fact that pilgrimages may be subjected to temporal comparison, Garton shows how the Codex Callixtinus (Pilgrim’s Guide) provided a textual roadmap that anchored pilgrims in a set of visual, spatial and tactile directions. Next, Richard LeSueur probes the depths of intentionality by arranging pilgrims’ experiences within a matrix that brings travellers’ personal proclivities to the surface. Having conducted pilgrimage tours to the Middle East for decades, LeSueur is chiefly concerned with maximizing benefit for those in his charge. Within such a context, his grid serves as a heuristic and a thought-provoking reminder that pilgrimage is a non-static, dynamic process.

Anchored in the domain of South African epistemologies, Shirley du Plooy’s contribution uses insights gleaned from anthropologists Ian Hodder and Tim Ingold and concepts like ‘entanglements’ and ‘meshworks’ to analyse data collected during fieldwork from sacred sites in the eastern Free State. Indirectly, du Plooy argues in favour of the theory that non-human ‘affective’ agency exists and that objects can possess ‘charismatic or enchanting qualities’.²

Part II, Narrating Pilgrimage, contains chapters that explore the telling of stories through various media. Examining a diverse array of pilgrim texts that include Emilio Estevez’s canonical The Way and modern pilgrims’ written and orally transmitted words, Suzanne van der Beek provides a useful taxonomy of pilgrim writers, exploring how narratives are shaped in dialogue. Van der Beek’s analysis is a reminder that, in the words of Mikhail Bakhtin (1984, p. 183), we all ‘live in a world of others’ words’. Alison Smith also explores the Camino; however, her focus is on the Spanish film-maker Luis Buñuel and his 1969 surrealist classic The Milky Way. Smith demonstrates that the film’s subversive representation of pilgrimage parallels medieval ideas, not only about pilgrims, but also about women. Buñuel shows how Mary Magdalene and even the Virgin Mother can be shown to exist on the margins, physically as well as cognitively, and in such liminal and dangerous realms, transformation can take place (see van Gennep, 1960). In the final chapter of this section, Aateka Khan examines the Victorian explorer Richard Burton’s participation in the Hajj, the prescribed Muslim pilgrimage to Mecca. Khan argues that what began for Burton as a disguised act of curiosity became an epiphany that led to insight and wisdom. Khan’s work attests to the kinds of personal change that can occur when someone, freed from ethno-centrism and bias, becomes immersed in the sacred.³

In Part III, Reclaiming Pilgrimage, contributors discuss spiritual journeys in Europe that include a procession of joy for children, a redemptive practice of mourning, and a search for a mystic saint. Vivienne Keely explores a pilgrimage designed for young people, one that took place in 19th-century Dublin. Although the organizer conceived of the experience as an occasion for reward and enjoyment, the pilgrimage bore secondary functions that included offsetting the proselytizing efforts of other religious groups on the one hand and insuring that the young were more firmly socialized into Roman Catholic culture on the other. Also focusing on Ireland, E. Moore Quinn examines the practice in rural areas of burying the dead bodies of unbaptized infants in ‘non-sacred’ spaces. Quinn brings to light the current revaluation of the babies’ graves and the role that local communities now play in re-sacralizing them, a process that is occurring in tandem with other shifts in the interpretations of the Irish past. These include attitudes towards clerical definitions of the sacred and profane. Societal transformation is also dealt with in the next chapter; Mary Farrelly, reflecting on numerous attempts by Spanish film-makers to represent on screen the interior spiritual journey of the mystic saint Teresa of Ávila, demonstrates how the narratives have been appropriated – and consumed – by various stakeholders.

The three authors in Part IV, Healing and Reconciling through Pilgrimage, explore historical injustices and their remedies through pilgrimage. In this regard, their work bears similarities to that of Richard and Nancy Wainwright, two members of the Holy Land Trust who attended the Sacred Journeys conference in order to share their narrative of a journey from Iraq to Bethlehem to celebrate the birth of Jesus at the turn of the last millennium. Ten years in the making, their pilgrimage was undertaken to foster peace and rapprochement between Muslims and Christians. Aligning with the work of the Wainwrights is Ian McIntosh, whose chapter discusses the yearning of Muslims residing in the Gaza Strip to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem (Al Quds) and the Noble Sanctuary, Haram al-Sharif. Although this pilgrimage is forbidden at present, it is hoped that in the future a short overland journey from the Mediterranean coast will welcome millions of pilgrims and bring much-needed revenue to what is now a severely depressed area. George Greenia’s chapter focuses on a recently developed mid-winter educational and spiritual pilgrimage endured on horseback by the Lakota Nation youth of the American Great Plains. Despite the fact that the 300-mile trek to the massacre site Wounded Knee is undertaken in severely inclement weather, it serves as a rite of passage for the younger generations. Finally, Matthew Anderson reveals that the establishment of a new route along the old North West Mounted Police Trail across the plains of Canada has become a site of pilgrimage and a means to promote healing between Aboriginal and Settler communities.

Conclusion

Although many of the chapters in this volume remind us of Victor W. Turner’s concept of communitas, defined by one scholar as the ‘sense of unity that transcends the diversity of places, origin, status, politics, education, wealth, or other markers of societal division’ (Di Giovine, 2011, p. 58), it is worth emphasizing that, for many others, the ground has shifted from unity to diversity. Although Turner’s work served as a catalyst that spurred pilgrimage research in its day, its ultimate legacy may be that it energized critics to formulate new paradigms and to rethink pilgrimage from multiple lenses. Noga Collins-Kreiner argues, for instance, that several ‘either/or paradigms’ – the ‘center out there’ versus the ‘center in here’ debate, for one – have been overshadowed by the current ‘both-and’ approach. Collins-Kreiner sums it well:

Today, studying the meaning of pilgrimage transcends geography and sociology and involves an interpretative approach to seeking hitherto neglected alternative meanings. Present studies assume that pilgrimages are products of the culture in which they were created. Hence, they tell us ‘stories’ from political, religious, cultural, and social perspectives.

(Collins-Kreiner, 2010, p. 450)

Undoubtedly, many authors whose work appears in this volume would agree.

As editors and contributors, we wish to express our heartfelt thanks to all who made this volume possible. In particular, we owe a debt of gratitude to members of the Inter-Disciplinary.Net team. Finally, we acknowledge the scholars who are driving the dialogue on pilgrimage by contesting its definitions and challenging its paradigms. By doing so, they ensure that pilgrimage studies will remain viable for many years to come.

Notes

1. Theories and case studies about pilgrimages form an industry in anthropology and tourism studies. A small sample of works that have – and are – transforming scholarly ideas about pilgrimage include: Eade and Sallnow (1991), Eade (1992), Morinis (1992), Coleman and Elsner (1995), Badone and Roseman (2004) and Coleman (2013).

2. See Harrison (2012) and also Coole and Frost (2010); Latour (2005); and Viveiros de Castro (2004).

3. Transformations, which are thought to arise from ‘the regenerative abyss of communitas’ can occur when one experiences immersion in events like pilgrimages. See Turner (1969, p. 139).

Bibliography

Badone, E. and Roseman, S.R. (2004) Intersecting Journeys: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage and Tourism. University of Illinois Press, Urbana, Illinois.

Bakhtin, M.M. (1984) Problems of Dostoevsky's Poetics (trans. and ed. Caryl Emerson). University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Coleman, S. (2013) Ritual remains: studying contemporary pilgrimage. In: Boddy, J. and Lambek, M. (eds) A Companion to the Anthropology of Religion. Wiley, Oxford, UK, pp. 294–308.

Coleman, S. and Elsner, J. (1995) Pilgrimage: Past and Present in the World Religions. British Museum Press, London.

Collins-Kreiner, N. (2010) Researching pilgrimage: continuity and transformations. Annals of Tourism Research 37(2), 440–456.

Coole, D. and Frost, S.S. (2010) The New Materialisms: Ontology, Agency, and Politics. Duke University Press, Durham, North Carolina.

Di Giovine, M.A. (2011) Pilgrimage: communitas and contestation, unity and difference – an introduction. Tourism Review 59, 247–269.

Duranti, A. (2015) The Anthropology of Intentions: Language in a World of Others. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

Eade, J. (1992) Pilgrimage and tourism at Lourdes, France. Annals of Tourism Research 19(1), 18–32.

Eade, J. and Sallnow, M.J. (1991) Contesting the Sacred: The Anthropology of Christian Pilgrimage. Wipf and Stock, Eugene, Oregon.

Harrison, R. (2012) Heritage: Critical Approaches. Routledge, New York.

Latour, B. (2005) Reassembling the Social: An Introduction to Actor-Network Theory. Oxford University Press, Oxford, UK.

Morinis, A.E. (1992) Sacred Journeys: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage. Greenwood Press, Westport, Connecticut.

Prince, V. (2017) The Camino Way: Lessons in Leadership from a Walk across Spain. Amacom, New York.

Richards, G. (2015) Tourism Trends: The Convergence of Culture and Tourism. Available at: https://www. academia.edu/9491857/Tourism_trends_The_convergence_of_culture_and_tourism (accessed 7 April 2015).

Salazar, N.B. (2014) To be or not to be a tourist: the role of concept-metaphors in tourism studies. Tourism Recreation Research 39(2), 259–265.

Turnbull, C. (1981) The tourist as pilgrim: a pilgrimage in India. Natural History 90(7), 14–22.

Turner, V.W. (1969) The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-structure. Aldine, Chicago, Illinois.

Van Gennep, A. (1960) Rites de Passage (trans. Vizedom, M.B. and Coffee, G.L.). University of Chicago Press, Chicago, Illinois.

Viveiros de Castro, E.B. (2004) Exchanging perspectives: the transformation of objects into subjects in Amerindian ontologies. Common Knowledge 10, 463–485.

1 The Experience of Medieval Pilgrims on the Route to Santiago de Compostela, Spain: Evidence from the 12th-century Pilgrim’s Guide

Tessa Garton

*

College of Charleston, South Carolina, USA

*Address for correspondence: [e-mail]

The dramatic rise in popularity of the pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in the 11th and 12th centuries is reflected in the 12th-century Pilgrim’s Guide, which provides information about shrines to visit and the experiences of pilgrims along the four main routes through France and northern Spain – routes which are used by pilgrims to this day. This chapter examines the information provided in the Pilgrim’s Guide with an emphasis on the physical, visual and spiritual experiences of pilgrims along the route. The Guide describes the characteristics of the lands, peoples, local customs and food and drink experienced on the journey, as well as the miraculous qualities of saints whose shrines should be visited on the way, and in some cases the visual imagery of their shrines. Scholars have tended to emphasize the typical ‘pilgrimage church’ plan exemplified by the churches at Santiago, Toulouse or Conques, but a study of both the guide and the surviving churches reveals a rich variety of architectural forms and imagery that would have been experienced by 12th-century pilgrims along the pilgrimage routes. Each shrine emphasized the validity and significance of its relics, and the arrangement of the sacred space and visual imagery was frequently designed to demonstrate the miraculous powers or qualities of the local saint, as well as to encourage, warn and influence the behaviour and beliefs of devotees visiting the shrine. Methods of communication about the experiences of pilgrims have changed in recent times, as well as the religious emphasis; modern pilgrims have easy access to information about the journey and place less emphasis on the power of holy relics and more on the inner spiritual experience, but many aspects of walking the Camino remain the same.

The 12th-century Pilgrim’s Guide

Insights into the experience of individual pilgrims in the modern world are often provided by pilgrim narratives, such as the multiple stories of pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela, or Richard Burton’s account of his Hajj, analysed by Suzanne van der Beek (Chapter 4, this volume) and Aateka Khan (Chapter 6, this volume), respectively. The recent revival of interest in the Camino to Santiago de Compostela has taken place against a dramatic increase in access to, and exchange of, information about the experiences of pilgrims. Through online media as well as written records, modern pilgrims can communicate with a wide network of other pilgrims and can disseminate their stories and experiences to a large audience. In contrast, 12th-century pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela would generally have learned of the experiences of others, and disseminated their own, by word of mouth, and they have left no personal written records. It is therefore much more difficult to access their individual experiences. We can, however, gain some insights through a remarkable 12th-century manuscript, the Pilgrim’s Guide, which forms part of a collection of texts in the Codex Callixtinus and which describes the routes and shrines to be visited along the Way of St James through France and Spain.

The Codex was probably written and compiled around 1140 by three authors, the primary one being a French cleric, possibly Aymeric Picaud. It provides an anthology of information for pilgrims, including sermons, miracles, liturgical texts, musical pieces, descriptions of the route, sites to visit along the way and local customs. The final section, the Pilgrim’s Guide, provides information and advice for pilgrims (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995; Gerson et al., 1998; Ashley and Deegan, 2009). Few 12th-century pilgrims would have had the opportunity to see, or the ability to read, a copy of the Pilgrim’s Guide, and it was not a resource to be consulted en route like a modern-day guide. Only 12 manuscript copies survive, and there can never have been a large number of copies available (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 24). The Guide might, however, have been read to pilgrims by a local priest before they set off. This is implied by the passage at the end of Chapter III: ‘If I have enumerated only briefly the said towns and stages along the way, it is so that pilgrims setting out for Santiago can, having heard this, anticipate the expenses necessitated by the journey’ (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 28). Information about the pilgrimage would no doubt have been disseminated to prospective pilgrims by the local priest and by former pilgrims as they prepared for their journey, and a liturgical ceremony was developed in the 11th century for departing pilgrims. The ritual involved the blessing of their staff and scrip, items which became the identifying characteristics of a pilgrim (Ashley and Deegan, 2009, p. 65).

By examining some of the descriptions of, and evaluating the advice to, pilgrims given in the Codex Callixtinus, and by analysing some of the surviving monuments referred to in the Guide, we can gain a greater understanding of the experience of 12th-century pilgrims.

The Routes, Lands and Peoples along the Way

The Guide provides practical information about the routes travelled by pilgrims, opening with a description of four possible routes:

which, leading to Santiago, converge into one near Puente la Reina, in Spanish territory. One goes through St Gilles, Montpellier, Toulouse, and the Somport; another passes through Notre Dame of Le Puy and Ste-Foy at Conques and St-Pierre at Moissac; another proceeds through Ste-Marie-Madeleine of Vézelay, St-Leonard of the Limousin and the city of Périgueux; another goes from St-Martin of Tours to St-Hilaire of Poitiers, St-Jean d’Angély, St-Eutrope of Saintes and the city of Bordeaux.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 65)

Since all had to travel initially from home, either on foot or horseback or by boat, there was a much larger network of routes that would have been used to join the major routes, and which no doubt allowed pilgrims to take in as many shrines and pilgrimage destinations as possible on the way. Each of the routes described in the Guide starts at a major shrine, and the text emphasizes the importance of visiting shrines along the way, describing the characteristics and miracles of the saints at each site. But the Guide does not focus only on spiritual or religious experiences; but it also provides an account of the physical and cultural experiences of the journey. Chapter VII describes ‘The Names of the Lands and Characteristics of the Peoples on the Road to St James’, displaying prejudices and fears typical of travellers in strange and foreign lands. One of the most pejorative descriptions is that of the people of Navarre who, the Guide asserts:

are repulsively dressed, and they eat and drink repulsively. For in fact all those who dwell in the household of a Navarrese, servant as well as master, maid as well as mistress, are accustomed to eat all their food mixed together from one pot, not with spoons but with their own hands, and they drink with one cup. If you saw them eat, you would think them dogs or pigs. If you heard them speak, you would be reminded of the barking of dogs. For their speech is utterly barbarous. . . . This is a barbarous race unlike all other races in customs and in character, full of malice, swarthy in colour, evil of face, depraved, perverse, perfidious, empty of faith and corrupt, libidinous, drunken, experienced in all violence, ferocious and wild, dishonest and reprobate, impious and harsh, cruel and contentious, unversed in anything good, well-trained in all vices and iniquities . . . in everything inimical to our French people. For a mere nummus, a Navarrese or a Basque will kill, if he can, a Frenchman. . . . In certain regions of their country . . . when the Navarrese are warming themselves, a man will show a woman and a woman a man their private parts. The Navarrese even practice unchaste fornication with animals. For the Navarrese is said to hang a padlock behind his mule and his mare, so that none may come near her but himself. He even offers libidinous kisses to the vulva of woman and mule.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 73)

I have quoted this passage at some length as it gives some idea of the mixture of observation, myth, prejudice and scandalous gossip presented in the Guide and of the reaction to different racial, linguistic and regional characteristics as pilgrims travelled through France and northern Spain. It is clear from this passage that the author is French, and those reading it or listening to it were given further insight into his region of origin by a description of the people of Poitou as ‘valiant heroes and fighting men, daring in the front line of battle, elegant in their dress, distinguished of face, very generous with gifts, lavish in hospitality’ (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, pp. 68–69).

It is worth reiterating that, although the Guide’s author was an educated cleric, pilgrims came from all walks of life, and many of those travelling on foot could not have been much more elegant in dress or eating habits than the description of the people of Navarre. This may be illustrated by a capital from the 12th-century chapel of the pilgrim’s hostel in Navarrete (Navarre), which depicts two seated pilgrims, wearing hooded and belted tunics, one clearly identified by his staff and scrip, the other holding a goblet (Fig. 1.1). Both are eating ‘with their own hands’ and appear to be drinking ‘with one cup’ in a manner not unlike the description of the Navarrese. A second capital depicts two figures in their underwear, one grooming the hair of the other, possibly removing head lice (Fig. 1.2). The capitals, now incorporated, along with the portal and windows, into the entrance to the cemetery at Navarrete, come from the chapel of the hospital and inn of St Juan de Acre, which was founded just east of Navarrete in c.1185 (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, pp. 251–252). Pilgrim hostels, established along the route to Compostela by a number of monastic orders, served to provide food and shelter, and would have brought together people of different nationalities and backgrounds, much as they do today.

Fig. 1.1. Navarrete, hospital and inn of St Juan de Acre, capital. Photo courtesy of Tessa Garton, ©2011. Used with permission.

Fig. 1.2. Navarrete, hospital and inn of St Juan de Acre, capital. Photo courtesy of Tessa Garton, ©2011. Used with permission.

The Guide also prepares pilgrims for the changes in climate, landscape and vegetation which they will encounter during their pilgrimage. Chapter VII includes warnings of the difficulties and dangers of the journey, such as the insects and quicksands of the Landes region:

If . . . you cross the Landes region in summer, take care to guard your face from the enormous insects, commonly called guespe [wasps] or tavone [horseflies], which are most abundant there; and if you do not watch carefully where you put your feet, you will slip rapidly up to your knees in the quicksand which abounds there.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 69)

There are many references to the difficulties of crossing rivers, and the dangers of dishonest ferrymen. One notable example warns that:

The way of St James crosses two rivers which flow near the town of St-Jean de Sorde . . . which cannot be crossed without a barque – may their boatmen be utterly damned! For, although the rivers are quite narrow, nevertheless, they are in the habit of getting one nummus from every person, poor as well as rich, whom they ferry across, and for a beast four, which they undeservedly extort. And, furthermore, their boat is small, made of a single tree trunk, scarcely big enough to accommodate horses. Also, when you get in, be careful not to fall into the water by accident. You will have to draw your horse behind you by the bridle, outside the boat, through the water. On account of this, get into the boat with only a few passengers because if the boat is overladen with too many people, it will soon be in peril. Many times also, after receiving the money, the ferrymen take on such a throng of pilgrims that the boat tips over, and the pilgrims are killed in the water. Thereupon the ferrymen rejoice wickedly after seizing the spoils from the dead.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 69)

Many new bridges were constructed along the pilgrimage routes during the 12th century as a solution to the difficulty and danger of river crossings; one example is the bridge over the Dourdou, on the way out of Conques towards the south.

Rivers were important in terms of the availability of fresh drinking water, and Chapter VI of the Guide is devoted to ‘The Good and Bad Rivers Found on the Road to Santiago’. The author states that he has ‘described thus these rivers, so that pilgrims starting out for Santiago may be careful to avoid drinking those which are fatal and may choose those which are safe for them and their mounts’ (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 68). He recounts, apparently from personal experience, the dangers of the ‘Salty Brook’ at Lorca, where:

while we were going to Santiago, we met two men of Navarre sitting sharpening their knives; they are in the habit of skinning the mounts of pilgrims who drink that water and die. When questioned by us, these liars said that it was safe to drink. We therefore watered our horses, and immediately two of them died, which these people skinned on the spot.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 68)

The author warns that ‘all the rivers between Estella and Logroño have water that is dangerous for men and beasts to drink, and the fish from them are poisonous to eat’ (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 68).

Not only water, but the availability of food was an important concern for pilgrims, and here again we find prejudices and fears typical of travellers in foreign lands. After warning that ‘all the fish, beef, and pork of the whole of Spain and Galicia cause illnesses to foreigners’ (Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 68), the author is more enthusiastic when describing the pilgrim’s arrival in Galicia:

after crossing the region of León and the passes of Mount Irago and Mount Cebrero; this is wooded and has rivers and is well provided with meadows and excellent orchards, with equally good fruits and very clear springs; there are few cities, towns or cornfields. It is short of wheaten bread and wine, bountiful in rye bread and cider, well-stocked with cattle and horses, milk and honey, ocean fish both gigantic and small, and wealthy in gold, silver, fabrics, and furs of forest animals and other riches, as well as Saracen treasures. The Galicians, in truth, more than all the other uncultivated Spanish peoples, are those who most closely resemble our French race by their manners, but they are alleged to be irascible and very litigious.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, p. 74)

The description of Galicia as a bountiful land of milk and honey suggests the relief and elation experienced after an arduous journey, when the end is almost in sight. As with modern pilgrims, the shared experiences with companions, and the physical rigours of a long journey, often through hostile countryside, served to intensify the euphoria of arriving at the destination, and in particular of arriving at the shrine of a saint.

Shrines and Relics

It was not only the final destination at the shrine of St James that offered benefits to pilgrims; the entire journey was punctuated by visits to the shrines of miracle-working saints along the way, as described in Chapter VIII, ‘The Bodies of the Saints at Rest along the Road to Saint James which Pilgrims Ought to Visit’. At Vézelay, pilgrims visited the tomb of Mary Magdalen, whose legendary powers are described in the Guide in the following manner:

The most worthy body of the blessed Mary Magdalen must first be venerated by pilgrims. . . . It is she, in truth, who, after the Ascension of the Lord, arrived by sea from the region of Jerusalem, with the blessed Maximinus, disciple of Christ, and other disciples of the Lord, in the land of Provence, that is, through the port of Marseille, in which land she lived a celibate life for several years and finally was buried in the city of Aix by the same Maximinus, who had become bishop of the city. But, in truth, after a long time, a certain distinguished man, blessed by his monastic life, by the name of Badilo, translated her most precious mortal clay to Vézelay where even today it rests in a revered tomb. Also, in this place, a vast and very beautiful basilica and an abbey of monks were established; there, for love of this saint, transgressions of sinners are forgiven by the Lord, sight is restored to the blind, the tongue of the mute is loosed, paralytics are raised, the possessed are delivered and ineffable benefits are granted to many.

(Shaver-Crandell and Gerson, 1995, pp. 78–79)

In this passage, the emphasis is on the significance and authenticity of the relics, and their power to bring both spiritual and physical benefits to pilgrims. Stories such as that of the translation of the relics of Mary Magdalen from Marseille to Vézelay meant that the relics of a particular saint were often claimed by a number of different churches, each of which was anxious to guarantee the authenticity of its claim. The author of the Guide is particularly emphatic about the immovability of the relics of St James, St Martin of Tours, St Leonard de Noblat in the Limousin, and St Giles, of whom he states:

Therefore may the Hungarians blush, who say they have his body; may the people of Chamalières be wholly confounded, who fancy that they have his entire body; may the people of St-Seine waste away, they who praise themselves for having his head. Similarly may